


Could've Been

by SilentWinter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drunken Confessions, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-11-04 18:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17903606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentWinter/pseuds/SilentWinter
Summary: Steve and his best friends watch as reader shamelessly flirts with yet another stranger, unbeknownst to her that it's killing him inside. He could just tell her how he feels -- but there's one slight problem: his girlfriend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reader is referred to only in pronouns :)

She was doing it again. Sitting there with her bare legs draped across the lap of yet another flavor of the month, his hand caressing her upper thigh as he whispered in her ear. And there it was -- her head threw back in laughter as she clutched a bottle of cheap beer.

That was one thing Steve always appreciated about her: regardless of how much money she was being paid for the articles she’d write about the Avengers as part of a public relations assignment, she still loved cheap beer. He’d never forget that first night out with the team where everyone ordered top-shelf cocktails and she settled for a bottle of Bud Light.

As part of her Non-Disclosure Agreement, she was to be strictly professional in both her articles and interactions with the team. And she was. It was a struggle to convince her to stop calling him “Captain Rogers” over just “Steve;” or to quell her fears that she was asking the wrong questions. Eventually, she had become a regular face with the Team whenever they weren’t on missions. Her writings were good; she’d even managed to humanize the Hulk in a way that would have made Mary Shelley proud. 

Steve’s personal favorite a three-part series titled, “The Mystery of Captain America.” She’d followed him around for three weeks, asking questions and spending significantly more time with him than she had the other members of the Team. He knew that, at some point, the casual quips between the two of them had become something more. The looks they shared when they were alone left him longing for more, even hours after she’d left. She’d always managed to make him feel like he was just “Steve.”

But he couldn’t have her. She had become yet another fruitless and unattainable goal for Steve Rogers.

“Steve? Hello?” Sharon chirped from beside him, breaking his gaze.

He looked down at her, briefly knitting his brows together before relaxing into a smile. “Hey.”

“I asked if you wanted to dance or something,” she said, her lips pursed into a smile.

He shook his head and slumped in his chair, glancing quickly across the room and watching as the stranger pressed a kiss to her collarbone. The moment the man’s lips touched her skin, Steve could’ve sworn that he saw her glare at him before turning her attention back to her target.

Sharon clicked her tongue. “God, every time we go out! Unbelievable!”

“What is?” Bucky scoffed from across the table, “She’s off the clock and free to do whatever – and whoever – she wants.” Steve shot him a look, to which Bucky responded with a raised eyebrow and a smug grin. “Why are you so worried about what she’s doing?” he asked, turning his attention back to Sharon

“I just think it’s unprofessional,” she shrugged, sipping gingerly from her martini glass. “Her job is to make you all look better – not sleep around the city.”

Sam laughed and rolled his eyes. “I think she’s doing a damn good job at both,” he deadpanned. A mischievous smile grew across his face before he spoke again, “Sharon, could it be that you’re jeal—” His words were cut off by a steel elbow to the ribs from Bucky. “What?” he deflected, “I’m just sayin’ she’s kinda got a body and, if I were that guy, I’d be pulling out all the tricks, too.”

Steve shifted uncomfortably, partially because he was resisting the urge to look at her again and partially because he knew that he would be hearing about “the rude and pigheaded shit” his friends pulled once they got home. Although dating Sharon was relatively new, she tended to treat their relationship with such familiarity that it felt like they were married. He’d always chalked it up to her Aunt Peggy and thinking that she already knew him.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom and the bar,” Sharon announced as she rose from the table and left.

Sam scoffed and shook his head, “When are you gonna tell her, man?”

“Tell her what?” Steve grunted

“That you wish she was somebody else,” Bucky teased, pointing his thumb toward the corner booth. “Or tell the somebody else that you’re into her? Because I think the feeling is mutual.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Suit yourself,” Sam sighed. Suddenly, his eyes grew wide. “But you better figure it out soon because she’s coming over here – with a friend.”

Steve felt a mixture of nervous and enraged butterflies in his stomach as two people swaggered over, one more off-balanced than the other. “Steve!” she slurred loudly as she approached the table, the man next to her holding her up by her waist. “Oh, and you guys, too.”

“Milady,” Sam said with a quick two-fingered salute. “You seem to be havin’ fun.”

“I am!” she giggled, “This is, uhm. This is – shit! Who are you?”

“Andrew,” he sighed before looking at the three of them with desperate eyes. “Look, normally, I’m all about a good time. We ripped some shots, smoked a few cigs, and she is way too drunk for me to try and get in her pants,” he explained. “She mentioned that she knew you guys from work or something and – could you take her? She’s a wreck, dude.”

“Fuck you,” she snapped before letting go of him and tumbling into Sam’s side. She turned her head to rest on his shoulder. “Sammy, he’s an ass,” she whined.

Sam and Andrew exchanged a look before Andrew walked away. “Alright, girl, c’mon,” he grunted, settling her on his lap. He lowered his voice, “What am I supposed to do with her?”

“Jesus fuck, Wilson,” Bucky grunted, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close to him. “We should probably get her home.”

“I’ll take her,” Steve offered quickly, eyeing her as she cuddled close to his best friend, his jealousy rising. Catching a quick glimpse of her bare chest thanks to the deep v-neck of her romper, he wondered if she was wearing the same flowery perfume that she always did.

It wasn’t new. Sometimes, she would get too drunk to stand up and the Team, mainly Steve, would take her back to her apartment in the Tower. 

_“Steve?” she whispered as he walked away from her bed after virtually wrestling her into it. “Would you stay with me? Just once. I just – I just don’t wanna be by myself.”_

However, it wasn’t just once. Even on the nights where Sam or Bucky would take her home, she’d drunkenly dial him and hang up. The missed call became a secret signal for him to sneak into her room, where she’d already cleared a spot for him on the bed. They never spoke about it and he always left before she’d wake up, making sure to clear her call log without her knowing.

“Like hell you will,” Sam teased. “You got Sharon to get home.”

At the mention of Sharon’s name, a grunting sound fell from her lips. The three of them looked at her confusedly. “What was that?” Steve asked

“I said,” she muttered into the space between Sam and Bucky, clearly thinking that she was out of Steve’s earshot, “she’s a cunt and Steve should dump her. He and I would be so much better together -- anyone with eyes could see that. But _that_ can’t happen, so, Sharon fucking Carter, it is.”

Steve's mouth hung agape. Sam doubled over in silent laughter, unable to control himself. “I’m sorry, could you say that just one more time and a little louder for effect?”

“Gladly!” she bellowed. “I said, she’s a –” Bucky clapped a hand to her mouth before she could finish.

“Not cool,” he said through gritted teeth. “Let’s just get her out of here before shit gets any worse.”

She smiled lazily, turning her head up to look at Bucky. “You smell really nice. Will you take me home?”

“Of course, doll.” Bucky tightened his grip and stood up, steadying her against him before gesturing for Sam to follow. 

“Take care of her, Buck,” Steve called after them. He felt Sharon slide onto the stool next to him and lean against his shoulder.

“And there she goes,” she hissed, “with two even bigger fish than she could’ve imagined.” She looked at him and sighed, "Maybe she's not a good fit here."

Steve ran his hand down his face before standing up. “Let’s go.”

He’d spent the entire night waiting for a missed call with her words repeating themselves in his head. But the call never came. He went to sleep disappointed, waking up just the same.

“You going for a run, babe?” Sharon asked as Steve walked out into the kitchen, already clad in a pair of sweatpants and athletic shirt. 

He nodded, “I’ll be back soon.” He kissed the top of her head before grabbing a protein bar from the bowl on the counter and heading toward the elevator. He waited impatiently for the elevator doors to open, even more impatiently to get to the ground floor as it made another stop on one of the lower floors. When the doors opened, his breath hitched.

It was her. She gave him a polite smile and stepped inside. His eyes traveled over her, noting the white sneakers that matched the plain white t-shirt that was tucked into her jeans. Her hair was pulled half pulled back in an effort to keep it from her face – which, during their time working together, he picked up to mean that she was deep in thought or writing an article.

“How’s it going?” he asked

“Good,” she replied. She turned to him and smiled, but it seemed sadder than he had grown used to seeing. “I’m getting a new assignment.”

“Oh?”

She nodded, “Yeah, uhm, I’ll be following the underground music scene.” Chuckling nervously, she glanced at the floor. “Definitely something I can do.”

Steve could tell by her tone that there was more. “That’s great! Here in New York?”

She sighed and gave a halfhearted smile, “Chicago. I’m leaving in a few hours, actually.”

“Wow,” he said flatly. “Why so far?”

“I dunno,” she shrugged. “It was kinda sudden. Guess I wasn’t doing as great a job with you guys as we thought. But, I gotta go where the money is … and that’s not here anymore.”

Without thinking, he grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him. “That’s not true – you’re amazing.” Their eyes met and he wanted nothing more than to admit everything that he’d been holding in. He wanted to tell her not to go. To stay with him. Maybe even kiss her like he’d imagined himself doing at least a thousand times before.

But the elevator doors opened, letting the loud conversations and footsteps of the Tower lobby into the enclosed space. He let go of her arm and walked out with her. “Well,” she sighed, “I’ve gotta go turn in my resignation and keys. But, thanks for being such a great assignment, Steve.”

He smiled, ignoring the bile rising in his throat. “Thanks for being such a great …” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish his sentence.

Disregarding the fact that they were in the open, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and squeezed him tightly, filling his nose with the scent of that perfume he’d grown to love. “We were a great team,” she whispered before letting go. Without saying anything else, she turned quickly and walked away from him. He could've sworn that the hand that he saw move toward her face was to wipe her eyes.

“We should’ve been more," he whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be a one-shot, but I couldn’t leave them alone! Thanks for reading!

Life at the Tower without her following one or all of the Team around was surprisingly easy. Just as it was when she had been there, everyone milled about their daily routines - minus the girl that seemed to be everywhere at once, observing, asking questions, or just hanging out. Tony spent his days tinkering in the lab, occasionally working with Bruce and always being a smart ass. Bucky and Sam had developed another new training regimen that was sure to beat Steve (Spoiler alert: it didn’t). Natasha continued to work tirelessly looking for Hydra intel with Fury.

Yes, life at the Tower was as normal as ever. Except for Mr. Steven Grant Rogers.

For Steve, life had been anything but normal. He had grown so used to her constant presence that, without it, he felt unbalanced. He tried his best to resume business, but it seemed like everywhere he looked, he was reminded of her absence. He’d lost count of how many times he said something aloud and waited for her to laugh or bite back with a clever remark. Every time he got into the elevator, their last encounter played out in front of him and he was offered a front row seat to watch her walk away from him time and time again.

He knew what it was: grief. Steve Rogers, the mighty Captain America, was grieving the loss of a girl that wasn’t his to begin with. He was clinging to some far off dream. He even subscribed to newspapers and magazines from Chicago, searching the print for the pieces she’d written. 

She had been busy, writing on a new band or artist nearly every week to be printed on Sunday editions. He poured over her words, imagining what her voice would sound like as she read them aloud. He wondered if she’d started dating a musician. Someone who played a jazz instrument or maybe sang lead in a band. Someone who wasn’t him and would never be him because she was in no way obligated to him.

“Tell me why you’re not upstairs again?” Natasha asked as she walked out of her kitchen with two bowls of cereal.

Taking it as she held it out to him, he shrugged and took a hearty spoonful. “Just wanted a change of scenery.”

“Well,” she scoffed, “my place has the same view was yours and is laid out the same. The only difference aside from my impeccable taste in decor is that Sharon isn’t here.”

“It’s not that, Nat,” he groaned. “C’mon, I love her.” He meant that. He really did.

“Could’ve fooled me,” she muttered. “You’ve been walking around for weeks with this ... this look on your face and I can’t stand it!”

He quirked a brow. “What look?”

“Like you’ve lost everything and don’t know which way to turn, Steve,” she replied, eating another bite. “Everyone can see it. Sharon can see it.”

“I do not look like that.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m fine, Romanoff.”

She set the bowl down on the table harder than Steve expected, causing him to freeze mid-bite. “You’re not fine,” she scolded, folding her arms across her chest. “You’re hurt. You’re sad. And you’re all broken up that she left and you didn’t get a chance because you have a girlfriend. And you always have to be self-righteous and do the right thing, even if it kills you.”

He set his bowl down next to hers and hung his head. Natasha was right, which is why he was about to share an idea that had been at the forefront of his mind for the last few weeks. “I think I’m gonna propose to Sharon.”

“What?” She asked incredulously 

“I think I’m gonna ask Sharon to marry me.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what you do, Nat. You date, you get married. The end.” He looked up to see Natasha staring at him with wide eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

She shook her head, “I can’t let you do that. What did Barnes and Wilson say?”

“Nothing,” he said coolly. “I didn’t tell them anything.”

“Because you know they’ll say you’re a fucking idiot, Rogers,” she deadpanned.

“Why is that?”

“Because you know that Sharon is the reason —“

At the sound of her name, Steve’s mind clouded over. He imagined the way she’d smile when he entered the room and how she’d bashfully turn away like she hadn’t seen him. He remembered the countless nights he’d spent laying next to her after a night out and how he’d trace the shape of her a dozen times, as if to commit it to memory.

“Hello?” Natasha said as she shook his arm. “Earth to Steve?”

He nodded quickly, recollecting himself from his drifting. He wanted to change the subject — no, he had to change the subject. “Anything new on the horizon?”

With a small smile, she reached under the couch and pulled out a slim Manila folder. “Funny you should ask,” she said, tossing the folder into his lap. “I’m due to give a prelim brief tomorrow morning and I have to give some names for the team,” she explained. “Maybe you’ll want in on this.”

Curiously, he opened the folder and skimmed the first page. It had the usual summaries for possible Hydra activity, but one word forced him to freeze.

Chicago.

He looked up from the page, his brows knitted together in disbelief. “Is this a trick?”

Natasha shook her head furiously. “No, but it is a chance.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So,” she began with a devilish smile, “you don’t wanna be on the team for this one? That’s fine, I can just take Barnes, Wilson, and Stark. He’s bored. Oh! And Agent 13.” Her smugness continued. “Hey! Does she know that you’re getting newspapers from Chicago delivered?”

“I like to keep up with national news.”

“Sure, Rogers.” She slapped the folder shut and threw it onto the table. “What about the phone calls? Have those stopped?”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know what calls I’m getting?”

It wasn’t like they talked on the phone. And it didn’t happen all the time. But every so often, usually on a Sunday morning, he’d wake up to a notification that he’d missed a call from an unknown number. He couldn’t prove it was her, but he knew. He even stayed up some nights waiting to see if a call would come, but to no avail.

“Please, Steve,” she snapped, “I’m a spy.”

The idea of Bucky, Sam, and Tony getting to see her — his girl (well, not actually his, but still), sent him reeling. It was unacceptable. And he said as much when Natasha asked him one last time if he didn’t want to go.

—

“Chicago?” Sharon asked, her voice filled with concern. “What’s there?”

“Hydra, possibly,” he shrugged as he zipped his bag and tossed it toward the door. He was trying his best to sound nonchalant, but he was sure that his excitement was apparent when telling Sharon about the mission.

She bit her lip, carefully choosing her next words. “You’ve got clear targets? You’ll be home as soon as you’re done?”

He nodded and stepped closer. “Yes, every move is planned. And you know we don’t get extra time,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “What are you afraid of?”

“Nothing,” she answered quickly. “I’ll just miss you.” She walked over to him and hugged him tightly, her desperation obvious. “Be smart.”

He kissed her hair and pulled away, artfully dodging her kiss by reaching down for his bag before leaving the apartment. He felt a pang of guilt in his stomach as he locked the door, but that was quickly replaced with a knot and a substantial amount of bile.

The four of them sat in the Quinjet in silence; the usual sound before a mission. But this silence felt lighter somehow. Sure, the mission was dangerous, but they all knew there was a bigger mission at stake. That mission could either end in closure or something else. What that something else could be was another mystery entirely. 

What if she was dating someone?

What if she didn’t remember him or SHIELD did something to her memories before she left as part of her NDA?

Worse: what if she didn’t want to see him?

All of those questions banged around his head as they dismantled the short-lived Hydra grassroots base. They worked quicker than usual with a mutual understanding that time was limited and absolutely of the essence. 

“Great work,” Fury said over the phone once they’d gotten back to the hotel and debriefed him. “Feel free to take the next 48 hours before coming home.”

“What?” Steve asked, glancing around at Bucky, Sam, and Nat, all of whom wearing smug grins on their faces.

“You heard me, Rogers. Don’t make me change my mind.”

“Yes, sir.” He hung up the call and stared at the phone. “Did he just give us time off?”

“Sounds like it, punk,” Bucky scoffed. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a folder and threw it into Steve’s lap. “Intel,” he grunted after reading Steve’s expression. 

Sam smiled before leaving the room. “I call first shower, Barnes,” he said over his shoulder. “And wear something low key, but not stupid.”

“What does that mean?” Steve asked Natasha and Bucky

“It means we’re going out. And no baseball caps or sunglasses,” Natasha warned before following Sam out of the room.

Bucky patted Steve on the shoulder with a feeble smile. “Have a little faith, Stevie.”

Steve let out a dark laugh, “She won’t wanna see me, Buck. And I’m not supposed to want to see her either.”

“Maybe,” Bucky shrugged, heading toward the door, “but you’ll never know if you don’t open that file and give it a chance.” 

Steve gave the file a blank stare, strengthening his resolve to open it.

A picture of her smiling with the Team. 

A bulleted list of her usual whereabouts.

Another bulleted list of her life over the last six months.

A brief musing on potential suitors (with a very clear final point that none of them were current).

A candid photo. Of him and her talking in his apartment. He was sitting on the floor, a bowl of popcorn on the table. She was sitting cross-legged on the couch, notepad in her lap and her hair piled atop her head. He was laughing at something and she had a sheepish smile on her face. 

He sighed, pulling it from its place in the stack and holding it between his fingers. “Hey,” he practiced, trying to sound casual. “No. Hi.” He cringed. “Long time, no see!” That wasn’t right. “How’s it goin’?”

Finally showered and dressed, he waited for the others to meet back in his room by pouring over the pages of her file and comparing her past works to the schedule of numerous shows going on in the city. She seemed to be writing quite a few articles on the hip-hop/R&B scene as well as the indie solo artists. It was a useless task because he was sure that Natasha had already figured out where she’d be.

He was right. Natasha had the entire night planned like it was another mission; complete with coordinating movements and positions throughout the venue. He had to hand it to her, she knew how to make a plan.

“Okay,” she said breathily as they stood in line, wrapping her arms around herself to shield from the chill in the air, “Barnes, you and Wilson will go left. I’ll go right. Steve, you go to the bar and hang in the back.” She surveyed Steve’s quizzical expression and rolled her eyes. “For godssake, she might run the other way if she faces you head on. Give us a chance to find her and ease her into it.”

“Tell me why we’re wearing comms to a show?” Sam asked, adjusting the nearly invisible piece in his ear

She shrugged, “Safety first.” When they all stared at her, she sighed, “Lovestruck or not, we’re still Avengers and that spells danger for everyone.”

Once they got inside, the split up according to plan. Steve weaved through the tightly packed room and headed toward the bar. He leaned against it, scanning the dimly lit room for any sign of her.

He found her.

Almost invisible in the crowd, scribbling notes and sitting on the steps leading to the stage. His breath was caught in his throat as he studied her. Her hair cascading over one shoulder, dancing against her bare arm as she wrote something and erased something else, repeating the process until she smiled to herself. It felt invasive to catch such a private moment, but he couldn’t tear himself away.

“Anyone have eyes on her?” Natasha muttered into their ears

“No from me and Barnes.”

“I see her,” Steve sighed. “Stairs. Left corner of the stage.” He saw two figures in the crowd shift quickly and knew Sam and Bucky were following his directions.

“On it,” Sam said.

He had to stop them. He needed to see her first. “No!” Steve hissed, freezing the two of them on the floor.  
“I’m going over there.”

“Steve, that’s not part of the plan,” Natasha warned.

Taking the final swig from his beer that, if he were a normal man, would’ve provided him with sufficient liquid courage for what he was about to do, he left the bar. His eyes never left her as she continued to think and write. The emerald green dress clung to her form and every so often, she reached down to adjust the strap on her black heels. She was uncomfortable and he was about to make it worse.

He slowed his walk as he got closer, trying not to startle her. At last, he was four feet away from her and she hadn’t looked up - she was used to being in close proximity with strangers. “Hi,” he said quietly. When she didn’t look up, he repeated himself.

“Not tonight, Wyatt,” she groaned, still not looking up. He tried not to look crushed at the fact that she didn’t recognize his voice, but that was likely due to him not sounding like himself. “I’ve told you: I can’t drink while I’m working, which means I’m not coming home with you, just like the first four times you’ve asked.”

He chuckled and cleared his throat, “Well, good thing I’m not Wyatt.” His voice sounded like his again and he was relieved.

The grip on her pen tightened and she raised her chin slowly. “Steve,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper and he would’ve missed it if he didn’t read her lips. “What are you doing here?”

He was too busy being relieved that she remembered him and that her brain wasn’t scrambled that he let an awkward silence settle between them before speaking again. “Just in the neighborhood.” He heard a flurry of cuss words in his ear and cringed.

She tucked her notepad into her bag and stood up, leaning on the wall. The added height from her heels and the stairs let her match his eye level. “You’re a long way from New York, Cap.”

“We had a mission,” he explained. “Got some downtime, so we decided to head out.”

“Downtime? I thought you guys never got that.”

Nat’s voice came through his ear. “She’s smart, Steve. Change the subject.”

He gave her a small smile, “You look great.”

“So do you.” She surveyed him carefully, then eyed the rest of the room. “Where’s the ‘we’ you mentioned?”

“Around,” he shrugged. He didn’t want to make small talk, but it seemed like every idea that came to mind was small. “What’ve you been up to?”

“This,” she sighed. She shook her head, “One day, I’m writing about Earth’s mightiest heroes and the next I’m following bands around like a groupie.”

“We miss you at the Tower.”

“Who?”

“What?”

“Who misses me?”

“Everyone.”

She raised a brow. “Even Sharon?” A roar of laughter from Bucky, Sam, and Nat burst into his ear. She laughed before he could start the word vomit, “Relax, I’m kidding!” She hopped down the steps and stood in front of him. “It’s really good to see you, Steve,” she sighed. She paused for a moment and bit her lip before speaking again. “Y’know, I’ve rehearsed what I’d say to you if I ever got to see you again a thousand times. And here we are and I’ve forgotten every word.”

He jammed his hands in his pockets and smiled. “Take comfort in the fact that you aren’t alone.”

“It just happened so fast,” she rambled. “I had to leave and start a new life again before I was done with the old one. And there’s just a lot I would want to say and, oh, I’m so sorry about what I said about Sharon. Sam won’t stop reminding me.”

“You talk to Wilson?”

Sam spoke up, “What? I’m not just gonna leave the girl in the cold after she was our friend.”

Her eyes widened as she scrambled for an explanation. “He calls me sometimes. He’s not supposed to — it’s nothing serious. We’re not like, falling asleep to the sound of each other breathing or anything. He just calls to make sure I’m okay and let me know that things,” she paused for a moment. “That things are okay in superhero world.”

He laughed and shook his head, “I knew it!”

“Knew what?”

“You’ve liked Wilson the entire time,” he teased.

She glared at him. “Now, you and I both know that’s a lie.”

“We want a full report in the morning, Rogers. Cut comms, boys,” Natasha commanded. Steve heard them go silent and sighed in relief. Now was his chance.

Beyond the last night at the bar, she had never been bold enough to acknowledge that she felt anything more for him than friendship. The lack of NDA in their current situation meant that she could be honest with him. And so could he.

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I really want to kiss you.”

“Twelve,” she hissed, wriggling against his grasp.

“Twelve what?”

“Beat reporters in this room.” Her voice was harsh and corrective. “All of them are waiting for their big break and if you do that, they’ll get it.”

“You think I care?”

“Your girlfriend might!”

“You’re calling my bluff,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. “If you’re challenging me, you’ll lose.”

Looking around the room, she shook her head, “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” he sang, his hand creeping up to brush the bare skin between her shoulders. He felt the goosebumps rise on her skin and smiled. “Tell me you would kiss me back.”

“No.”

“No? I mean, I guess I’ll just have to figure out for myself,” he laughed quietly. He scanned the room and noticed a small handful of people looking their way; particularly a familiar-faced man who, despite his plainclothes, looked to be speaking into his watch. He knew what it meant. She had a tail. “But, people are starting to stare and any longer, I’ll have to do something. So, tell me you’d kiss me back.”

“Steve,” she whined, “I cant.”

“Three,” he counted, pulling away from her. Their eyes met just like they had in the elevator and she bit her lip. He could see the battle brewing inside of her, wavering between maintaining appearances and throwing caution to the wind. He’d already made up his mind. “Two —“

“Yes!” she yelled quickly. “Yes, I would kiss you back. But not here, okay? Not now. So, if that’s what we want to do, it can’t be here.”

A satisfied smile grew across his face. “Let’s get out of here.”

She nodded slowly as he let go of her, “I’ll lead.”

He looked at the SHIELD agent in the corner, who was staring intently at the two of them. “Give me one second. Don’t go anywhere.” 

He strode across the room to the corner, the heat rising up his neck. “Who sent you?”

The man shrugged in a poor attempt to cover the truth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ca — dude.”

He was a shitty agent. New and untrained. There was no way that Fury would send such a green agent to watch him or the others.

Steve smirked, “Are you here to watch me or her, Agent?”

Agent Shitty sighed in defeat, “Her, sir.”

“How long?”

“Two months, sir.”

“Who do you report to?” Steve asked, glancing back to make sure she was still there. He was filled with relief to see that she was sitting on the stairs again, pretending to write.

“I can’t tell you, sir.”

“You’ve been made, Agent. Luckily not by your target, but if you want to keep your job, you’ll tell me.”

Shitty’s face fell. “Agent 13, sir,” he relented. “I’m fired, aren’t I?”

It was the answer Steve had half-expected and half-dreaded. But he would deal with that later. Right now, he needed to leave with her and make it barely detectable.

“No, you’re not fired,” Steve said, running a hand through his hair. “Because here’s what you’re gonna do: you’re gonna go home and around 2AM, you’re gonna wake up and send in a report that states that the target has gone home alone.”

“Yes, sir.”

Steve patted him on the shoulder, “Good man.” He switched on the comm and spoke quickly, “She has a tail.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Nat said. 

“Go easy on him. He’s young.”

“Worry about you, Rogers.”

“Yeah,” Bucky chimed in, “and we won’t be waiting up, so be safe.”

“Real safe,” Sam teased.

The lines went silent again. He turned on his heels and walked back toward his girl. She looked up at him and smiled, “Ready?”

He held offered a hand and pulled her to her feet. He let out a relieved sigh when she didn’t let go, her fingers laced tightly in his as they wove through the crowd.


	3. Chapter 3

Finally out of the venue, Steve closed his eyes and faced upward, inhaling the cool fresh air through his nostrils. He brought his chin down and looked to her, only to catch her eyeing him before shyly turning away. If he tried to kiss her here, on the street corner, he knew it wouldn’t be as long or deep as he needed it to be. “Where to, ma’am?” he asked as he brought her small hand to his mouth, lightly brushing her knuckles with his lips. 

“My place isn’t far from here.” Her tone was different, almost teetering on the verge of nervousness. Steve decided that was probably because she didn’t think they’d ever get this far. Truth be told, neither did he.

Steve followed as she led him to her apartment with minimal conversation. Every now and again, she’d look over her shoulder and smile at him before continuing on, making him feel more at ease with the situation. Sure, he’d gone to her “place” in the Tower, but that was only at night when she had too much to drink.

This was different.

Her new place was only a block away from their hotel (Good move, Nat) in one of the high-rise, luxury apartment buildings, an impressive feat for a home paid for by a PR company. So impressive that Steve figured that Stark had something to do with it. When she pressed the button for the 45th floor, he knew Stark had something to do with it.

“Home, sweet home,” she said, smiling as she opened the door. 

They were greeted by an overwhelming view of the city through the wall of windows opposite of the door. It was fully furnished as though she had lived there for years, even though it had only been two months. Steve tried to imagine how this came to be. Maybe Tony strongarmed the company, offered them money or something to support themselves as well as her. He quietly thanked him.

“Nice, right?” she chuckled. “I guess they made a fair bit of money from all those Avengers articles and decided to start treating us better.”

“At least you don’t have to stay with any of the artists.”

“Half of them live in vans, so yes, that’s lucky.” She set her bag down on the coffee table and walked to the window with her phone in her hand. “It really is a beautiful city,” she sighed.

“Yeah,” Steve breathed, standing next to her. 

Her face fell for a moment and reached into her purse, pulling out her phone. “I have a question,” she said, unlocking it. “Actually, it’s more of an action.”

“Okay,” he replied with confusion.

She slowly dialed a number as if she had to recall each individual digit. When she finally hit the green button to call it, she looked at him. Suddenly, his phone started to vibrate in his pocket.

“It was you,” she whispered, ending the call.

“What?”

“I stopped drinking on the job because every time I did, I tried to call this number. I never had the courage to ask whose it was, but it wasn’t saved and most exes or people I just don’t wanna talk to are saved as “Do Not Answer.”

“I’m more impressed that you remembered my number,” he joked.

“Me neither. I needed to delete it before I left New York,” she said with a shrug. “But why would I call you?”

He didn’t answer immediately. He didn’t know how to explain that those phone calls had become their “thing” and that, as long as those calls came, he had hope. He also didn’t know how to explain that when those calls stopped weeks ago, he had spiraled into complete despair.

“You used to call me sometimes. You’d call and hang up.”

“That’s it? I drunk-dialed and ditched?”

“Yes,” he lied, deciding that those quiet moments he got to spend with her at night would remain yet another secret.

“Oh.” She turned to look up at him, “Steve?” He hummed in response. “Why did you come find me?”

“I needed to see you.”

“But why?”

He sighed, “I needed to know that you were okay.”

“I’m okay,” she said quietly. “Are you?”

“I’m better now.”

She played with the hem of her dress and looked out the window again. “Now that you know that I’m okay? Or now that you’re with me?”

An answer didn’t come to him, only an action. He’d missed his last chance that day in the elevator, as he had many times before she left New York. And now, a new, final chance was being offered to him.

He wasn’t going to miss it this time.

He reached for her chin and tilted her face toward him, meeting her lips with his own. Warmth seemed to radiate from her lips to his, pulsating through his body as he reached for the back of her neck and pulled her in closer. She seemed to melt into him in a long overdue embrace that he’d never experienced until that moment.

When they finally broke away from one another, he rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. They stood there, unable to speak as they shared breaths with one another.

She laughed, “I think if I move away from you, I might not be able to stand up on my own.”

“Same here,” he chuckled. He pressed his palms to hers and laced their fingers together, hoping to close the already impossibly close distance between them.

All too soon, she gave him a sad smile and let go, walking to sit on the couch. She bent down to take off her shoes and shook her head. “How long do you have?”

He checked his watch. “27 hours.”

“And then you go back to New York?”

He nodded and sat down next to her, pulling her to rest her head in his lap. He moved her hair from her face and smiled. “But I’m not worried about that.”

But everything on her face told him that she was. “You go back to New York, back to her, and my life just goes back to what it was?” She stared up at the ceiling blankly. “Why would you come here and do this to me?”

He bit his lip and shook his head, “I don’t know. All I know is that since you left, I’ve felt —“

“Like something is missing,” she finished.

He nodded and stroked her hair. “I promise that I’m gonna figure this out.”

She giggled and stopped him by the wrist, glancing at his watch. “Well, you have 26 hours and forty-two minutes to do just that.” She pulled his wrist toward her and kissed him again. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she sighed, resting his hand on her cheek.

His fingers danced along her shoulder, relishing in the fact that they were finally allowed to touch her skin so tenderly. He smirked and laughed to himself and she stared at him with curiosity. “What’s funny?”

“Can I be honest with you?”

“I expect nothing less.”

He laughed again, “This is the part where we catch up and talk about what we’ve been doing all this time. But I’d be lying if I let you tell me about the articles you’ve written and acts you’ve followed because I’ve already read them all.”

“I knew it!” She laughed, “I noticed that almost everything I’ve written has been sent to New York. I should’ve known it was you!”

He cringed. “I was hoping you had enough national readers that you wouldn’t notice.”

She sat up in his lap and kissed him. “Well, if it makes you feel better, Sam tells me everything, so I’d have to pretend to be surprised at your updates too,” she said with a giggle.

Somewhere between not quite catching up and kissing, her green dress ended up on the floor next to the couch. His clothes and the rest of hers were discarded in a messy trail that led to the only bedroom in her apartment with a view as stunning as the living room. The love they made was long and slow, sharing looks that just brushed a certain eight-letter phrase each time their eyes met. 

It was perfect.

When Steve woke up the next morning with the sun streaming in through the windows, he didn’t need a moment to sort out the situation. He knew he was where he belonged. He checked his watch: 20 hours and fifteen minutes. Smiling to himself, he rolled over to face her.

For the first time, he didn’t need to clear her call log or sneak back to his place. He could stay there next to her and be there when she woke up. After a few moments, he grew impatient and kissed her on the forehead and her eyes fluttered open.

“Morning,” she muttered groggily. A lazy smile spread across her face and she scooted closer to him. “I’m still dreaming, aren’t I?”

He shook his head and propped himself up on his elbows, stretching his neck and frowning. If he was smarter, he would’ve stopped at his hotel and grabbed extra clothes and his toothbrush. But he wasn’t. “How much would you hate me if I left right now?”

“Magnitudes,” she teased. “Leave for good?”

He shook his head, “Never, but I do need clothes.”

“No, you don’t,” she giggled, sitting up. “We can just be naked all day!”

He leaned over and kissed her, feeling her smile beneath his lips. For a split second, he thought about calling Nat to bring him a change of clothes, but that would lead to an inevitable period of “hanging out” with everyone and he didn’t want that. “I promise I’ll be back,” he said sincerely as he moved to get out of bed. 

She stopped him and pulled him back to her, kissing him again and nipping his bottom lip with her teeth. “I’ll be here.”

As soon as he got into his room, Nat, Bucky, and Sam were waiting for him on the couches. He smirked and held up a hand, “Let me shower and brush my teeth first, then we’ll talk.”

“So, clearly she didn’t not want to see you, punk,” Bucky quipped.

“Yeah, from the looks of it, she got to see _all_ of you,” Sam teased.

Natasha grinned, “I’ve never seen anyone glow after their walk of shame.”

“It wasn’t a walk of shame,” he said, returning her smile.

A pillow cushion flew across the room. “Don’t be coy!” Nat yelled. “I want details.”

Steve smiles mischievously, “She has a mole right on her —“

“Not those details!” Sam groaned

Bucky frowned, “Look, I don’t wanna rain on this whole thing, but Sharon called. Said your phone was off and was wondering where you were.” He exchanged a look with Sam and Nat.

“What’d you tell her?”

“That you were out for a run,” he smirked. “But you’re gonna have to deal with that shit storm when we get home.”

“Nothin’ to deal with,” Steve said coolly. “When we get back, I’m gonna try to her job back and if they say no, I’m bringing her anyway.”

“As much as I support that plan, Rogers,” Nat said, “you’re gonna have to end things with Sharon.”

“I know,” he sighed. He checked his watch again: 18 hours and thirty minutes. “I promised her I’d be back, but meet us for lunch in an hour?”

“You know it’ll be at least three, punk,” Bucky teased.

“Jerk.”


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky was right. As soon as she opened the door to her apartment, she couldn’t get him undressed fast enough. The clothes that he’d carefully chosen had been haphazardly scattered across the floor as he was lost in bliss with her.

“I told you,” she sang, tracing absentminded circles on his arm, “you didn’t need clothes.”

“We might if we meet the Team for lunch.”

She groaned, “How much time do you have again?”

“We’re leaving in fifteen hours.”

“And then what happens?”

He kissed her shoulder and smiled. “Then, I call you incessantly every day and night to talk. We can FaceTime every once in a while. And eventually, I’ll get you back in New York.”

She gave him a sad smile, “New York.”

“You don’t wanna go back to New York?”

“Not without a sign that this is gonna work.” She turned to look out the window and sighed, “Because look at this city. It’s new and exciting and I can be whoever I want. Without an NDA.”

“NDA,” he grunted, joining her gaze out the window. “The entire reason we’re here.”

She laughed, “It really is.” She looked up at him, “It’s nice though, isn’t it? No agents roaming the halls. No meetings. No noise.”

“Just us,” he added. He knew what she was getting at. She wanted to stay here. “You don’t want to come back to New York.”

“I want to be with you, Steve” she said quietly. “I want to be your safe haven from it all. Not locked in some tower surrounded by guards and high tech security. I want it to be just you and me.” She sighed, “I’m not going to ask you to leave her for me, Steve.”

She could. If she did, maybe he would grow a pair and take the risk. He would end it with Sharon as soon as he could and be with her.

He had drifted in the middle of her rant. “ — and I’ve only been in one fight, y’know? And I got my ass beat so I never wanna do that again. I use UberEats like my life depends on it and I haven’t taken any of those pots that my mom gave me out of the box —“

“Stop,” he laughed, cutting her off with a quick kiss on the lips. He lifted her chin towards him, “Do you have any idea how crazy I am about you?”

With a sad smile, she sat up, taking her warmth with her as she shook out her hair. “You speak like single man, Captain Rogers. And I hate myself for forgetting that.”

Before he could answer, his phone rang on the nightstand and Sharon’s name blared across the screen. “Hm. There’s my cue,” she said coldly, getting up from the bed and grabbing his shirt from the floor. “Be sure to let me know where my next assignment is! I’ve always wanted to see Siberia in the Spring,” she added as she pulled it over her head and ducked into the bathroom.

Steve warily watched the screen as it vibrated on the table. The way he saw it, he had two options once he answered the phone. The first was to tell Sharon that it was over, that he’d finally made amends for letting professionalism and duty get in the way of his heart, that he couldn’t pretend to love her any longer — the truth. The second was to pretend that the past 24 hours hadn’t happened and that he was dutifully waiting for orders to come home.

He couldn’t choose. For whatever reason, he couldn’t say with any certainty that leaving Sharon was the right move. There was too much left to chance.

However, before he could make his choice, the phone had stopped ringing and he was surrounded by silence. Silence in the apartment of the girl who, just moments before, had filled his arms and heart with her musings.

The choice had been made for him. His well-known secret would remain unspoken.

“— Stupid girl,” he heard her mumble from the bathroom.

“Who’s stupid?” he called back in reply, trying to stifle his laughter

The door flung open and she stomped out yelling, “Steve Rogers! Where you listening to me _pee_?!”

He pointed to his ear with a smug grin, “Super-hearing.” He pulled her between his knees and looked up at her, moving some of her hair behind her shoulder. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

“I’m wearing your shirt and haven’t done my hair yet.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” As he leaned in to kiss her, she groaned before dodging him and resting her forehead on his shoulder. “What is it?”

“How long are we gonna play pretend, Steve?” She softly kissed his neck and backed away from him much sooner than he wanted, leaving him there with his arms outstretched, reaching for her. “Just this weekend?” she continued, “And then life just goes back to what it was?”

He shook his head, slightly annoyed that she kept bringing up the subject. “Why do you wanna talk about this?”

She scoffed, “Because if I don’t have an answer, I’m gonna live my life in stasis waiting for one to show up.”

“What do you want me to say? You aren’t asking me to leave Sharon, which would be a great sign that you have as much faith in us as I do.” His fists clenched for a second in his lap before he threw his hands into the air. “So, you tell me, what should I say?”

Her nostrils flared and her lower lip trembled. “What do you want _me_ to say? What do you want me to _do_ , Steve? You want me to ask you to leave her?” She let out a dark laugh, “Fuck that. The ball is in your court. Should I keep waiting? Or should I move on?”

Keep waiting. She’d been waiting for him all this time. His chest suddenly felt heavy as he shrunk into himself and buried his face in hands. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” she mocked in disbelief. She strode over to the window and touched the glass, drawing abstract designs on its surface with her delicate fingers. “I’ve been here all this time, trying to get over you - to let you go. And I was almost there,” she laughed, shaking her head. “And then you show up here on some bullshit mission that could’ve been taken care of by low-profile agents —“

“It was not bullshit,” he mumbled, but she didn’t hear him.

“You came here not to tell me that you’re ready to be with me, but to tell me that you don’t fucking know what we should do? Is that a joke?”

Steve had a question in mind; one that he was sure would tell him everything he needed to know. “Tell me something: if you were writing a book —“

“I don’t write books,” she grunted.

“I know, but if you did ... where would this part go?”

Her brows furrowed when she looked at him, choosing her next words carefully. “20 minutes ago? Somewhere in the beginning. 5 minutes ago? Probably the end.” 

He walked over to her and tried to put his arms around her, but she refused. He understood why. He lowered his voice to a whisper, wringing his hands, “You’re upset with me.”

She shook her head, “No. I’m not upset with you. I was “upset” when I was not-so-kindly reminded that nothing could happen between us by a supervisor.” Her voice grew louder as she continued, “I was “upset” when you walked in one morning with her hanging on you like she’d won a prize. I was “upset” when that same woman called to have me reassigned.”

“And now?”

She reached up to her eyes before any tears could fall. “And now, I’m just sad.”

He frowned, still not knowing what to do with his idle hands. “Please,” he begged, “just let me hold you.”

She closed her eyes tightly, as though she was hoping that he’d disappear by the time she opened them. With a heavy sigh, she pulled off his shirt and put it in his trembling hands. “Leave.”

Thankful for a task, he put his shirt back on and got dressed in silence as she did the same. “I’ll call you?” he asked weakly as he walked toward the door.

“Don’t,” she warned. “Please.”

“You got it,” he said quietly before he left. He leaned his back against the door to her apartment, feeling emptier than he had before. He heard a shuffling noise on the other side of the door and, for a moment, hoped that it was her preparing to run after him. But then he realized what he was hearing.

She was sitting on the floor, with her back against the same door, crying. Her sobs were enough to break his heart each time they started over and there was nothing more he wanted than to break the door down to get to her.

But he wasn’t going to do that. She was sitting there for a reason and she wasn’t going to run after him. She was mourning. She was going to let him go.


	5. Chapter 5

When Steve returned to the hotel empty-handed and empty-hearted, Natasha, Bucky, and Sam didn’t pry. They didn’t ask when he ordered them to pack their things and get ready to head back. They didn’t ask when they got on the Quinjet and Steve decided to pilot the entire flight alone. They especially didn’t ask when Sharon met them in the hangar and Steve received a true Hero’s Welcome.

Sam had received one text from her before they left: _It’s over. Please take care of him._

After Sam showed Bucky and Nat the text, they each tried their best to corner Steve in different places. Sam tried to take him for a run, but he’d already made plans to go with Sharon. Nat invited him to train, but he’d started to train during the session opposite of her with Sharon. Bucky offered to grab lunch with him several times, but he would politely refuse and instead eat with Sharon. At least he couldn’t be forced to talk about anything with her around.

In fact, Steve had been nauseatingly attached to Sharon since the mission. He had begrudgingly become the doting boyfriend he’d never thought to be before. The boyfriend he’d have been to someone else if given the chance.

However, he still woke up hoping for a missed call or text from _her_. Just like he had replayed the morning in the elevator on repeat, he replayed that final conversation they’d had where she told him to leave. He could feel it this time: she wasn’t waiting anymore. She was likely dating someone else, someone she adored and, in return, adored her. 

As much as it hurt, he liked to imagine her being loved by someone who knew what they wanted the moment they saw her. Because the idea of her sitting with her back against that door and hearing her heart shatter was too much for him to bear. No, she was happy, he told himself. She was loved.

He still had his weekly deliveries of Chicago news, which he poured over in the comfort of the conference room before sneakily discarding them after he read them. In truth, he wasn’t just looking for her writings, but any information he could find: an obituary (God forbid), an engagement notice (God forbid that, too), or a birth announcement (Did she even want kids?). When he was sure that there was nothing new to report, he would hastily throw them into the bottom of the trash can and cover them.

—

Steve watched as Sharon scrolled through the collection of Netflix movies. Yet another Thursday movie night. An entire city of exciting things happening below and she wanted to watch a movie. He didn’t mind though - whatever made her happy.

“Rogers!” Sam called from the other side of his apartment door, pounding on it with such vigor that Steve sprang from the couch and assumed that they were being infiltrated.

He flung the door open, “What is it?”

“Get your ass down to Romanoff’s.” Without waiting for the inevitable follow-up question, he stormed off and disappeared into the stairwell. 

Steve turned back to Sharon, who was still sitting on the couch, and shrugged, “Got any ideas what this is about?”

“None,” she replied curtly, still not turning away from the television.

“I’ll be back then,” he mumbled, slamming the door behind him. He followed Sam’s path, not wanting to risk Sharon catching him in the hallway while waiting for the elevator. 

Once he reached Nat’s door, he was wrenched into the room by a familiar metal arm and pinned against the door by his chest, slamming it shut. “What the hell, Buck?” he gasped

“Are you alone?” Bucky growled

Steve nodded and Bucky released him, walking away to the couch. “What’s this about?” he asked, rubbing the spot on his chest where Bucky’s arm had been.

“You’ve been avoiding us,” Nat explained as she walked out of the kitchen with Sam following closely behind her with a nod.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Bull,” Bucky scoffed. “You haven’t talked to us since we got back from Chicago.”

Nat nodded in agreement, “Every time we try to invite you somewhere, you’re busy with Sharon.”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Steve shrugged. 

Nat made a face. “Please, you were barely interested in her when you started dating.”

Steve moved for the door, but was blocked by Sam. “Move, Wilson. I mean it.”

“No.”

Steve was taken aback. It wasn’t like Sam to disobey one of his orders. Instead of arguing, he backed up and sat down next to Bucky. “Is this some kind of intervention?”

Bucky shrugged, “Not if you don’t want it to be. We can all just sit here and stare at each other and wait for you to tell us what the hell your problem is. Or you can just punch your way through all three of us.” He laughed, “Truth be told, I might enjoy it if you take the second option.”

“I think what Barnes is trying to say is that we’re worried about you,” Nat said.

Steve looked at the door and calculated his escape, but he knew he’d been cornered. His lips pressed into a fine line. “She told me to leave that day.”

“We know,” Sam sighed, sitting on the opposite couch. 

“I shouldn’t have left.”

Nat smirked, “We know.”

He looked at Sam and gave him a sad smile. “How’s she doin’?”

“Good,” Sam chuckled. “She’s doin’ real good, man.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He wasn’t, but he also wouldn’t press for more information. When they cast him similar sideways glances, he smiled, “I’m just happy that she’s happy because I’m happy.”

Bucky patted him on the shoulder, “So, that’s it? You’re over her?”

“A hundred percent,” he lied.

“Okay.” Bucky exchanged looks with Sam and Nat. They knew.

Nat smiled, “You coming tomorrow?” She was referring to the big party Stark had planned to debut a few new members of the Team. It was a weekend-long event, meant to show off the new strength of the team. What had been advertised as the biggest chapter in the story of the Avengers to the rest of the world was presented as a mandatory affair for the rest of them. Every member of the Team, agent, and staff member was required to attend.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” he laughed. “Sharon bought a new dress.”

The three of them let out dramatic groans.

“Cmon, guys,” he pleaded, “she’s my —“

“Girlfriend,” Sam interrupted. “We know.”

Nat smiled, “Just promise me you’ll see us there.”

“I will.”

—

Steve fidgeted with his tie as he entered the elevator with Sharon following behind him. He hated ties. No, he hated ugly ties. And this tie was the ugliest one he’d ever been forced to wear. It was lace to match Sharon’s dress. “Stop messing with it,” she teased, readjusting it back to its original uncomfortable position.

“It’s choking me,” he whined as the door closed. He sighed and looked at her. “I think I win for the most beautiful date in attendance.”

She smiled and grabbed his hand, “Don’t speak too soon, we haven’t gotten there yet.”

He winked at her, “I already know.”

They exited the elevator hand-in-hand, immediately overwhelmed by the amount of noise in the ballroom. “Christ, Stark,” Steve muttered as he led Sharon to the front of the room.

“Well, if it isn’t Capsicle and his Barbie.”

Steve sighed as he turned around to see Tony with a smug grin. “Tony, you know this is Sharon.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tony shrugged. “But I like the sound of Barbie, don’t you?”

Sharon gave him a polite smile and looked up at Steve, “I’m gonna go get a drink and mingle. I’ll see you later.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips and disappeared into the crowd.

“Do you always have to say some asshole comment to her?” Steve deadpanned

“Yes.” Tony smirked and walked away, leaving Steve alone in the middle of the floor. 

He scanned the room and found Bucky and Sam standing and laughing off to the side, instantly filling him with sadness and a bit of jealousy. He used to be the third one standing there, making snide comments the entire evening and trying to get drunk Sam to do something stupid. Eventually, their conversation would turn into a stakeout session where they’d watch her shamelessly flirt with some average Joe and throw casual glares in Steve’s direction.

They caught his eye and waved him over, to which he happily obliged. “You guys clean up,” he began, a smug grin spreading across his face, “well, you look terrible.”

Sam scoffed, “Wrong. You, Cap, are the one who looks like shit.” He tugged at Steve’s tie and asked, “Who picked this?” Bucky nudged him sharply in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him.

Steve laughed as he pulled off his tie and stared at it with a disgusted expression. “It’s terrible.”

“Much better without,” Sam confirmed. He glanced around the room. “Quite the guest list.”

“Mhmm,” Steve agreed, looking in the opposite direction. “Where’s Nat? She insisted I be here and I don’t see her.”

“Somewhere with Banner. You know these things aren’t really for him,” Bucky said. “Or me.”

Steve began trying to convince Bucky that he was doing well among the crowd, while Sam continued to scope out the room. “Uh, Cap?” Sam blurted out hoarsely

“Just go for it,” Steve chuckled, assuming it was another pretty girl that his friend had set his sights on.

“I don’t think you’d want me to,” Sam replied, his voice even quieter than before.

“Why not?” he asked amusedly as he and Bucky turned to look in the same direction as Sam.

“Oh, shit,” Bucky groaned.

“Oh, shit,” Steve echoed.

“That’s why.”

It was _her_.


	6. Chapter 6

There she was. There she was in a gray off-the-shoulder gown that clung to her form with a lace bodice that was sheer enough to show off her midriff in ways that made Steve’s mouth dry. Her hair was sophisticatedly pinned over one shoulder, exposing the collarbone that he had kissed and traced months ago. Everything that he’d tried to put behind him was now standing in the center of the room, garnering attention, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

His breath caught in his throat as she laughed at something that the man whose arm was looped through hers said. He recognized that laugh; a sound that had filled his ears and warmed his heart time and time again. 

Too caught in awe of her, it took him a moment before recognizing the man she was clinging to. He’d know that annoyingly young and handsome face anywhere.

It was Agent Shitty, the agent who’d followed her around for months. She had shown up to an Avengers party with the guy who had been assigned to watch her. And that laugh, that genuine laugh, wasn’t directed at him, but Agent Shitty.

Pursing his lips, Steve turned to Sam, who closed his mouth and stared back at his friend. “Did you know about this?”

“About the guy or that she’d be here?”

“Both.”

“I knew she was seeing someone, didn’t know it was that guy, which means I didn’t know that she’d be here,” Sam defended.

Steve shook his head, “Why would she show up here?”

“That would be my doing,” Tony announced smugly as he approached their group.

Steve snatched Tony by the shirt, “The hell did you do, Stark?”

Tony patted his hand and Steve released him. “A favor to us all,” he said, smoothing out his collar. “None of us could bear to watch you parade around with Barbie anymore.”

“Tony,” Steve growled. He was caught between anger, discomfort, and gratitude. Angered by the fact that he didn’t know she’d be standing there. Discomforted by the fact that she was standing there. Grateful because she was standing there.

“Relax, she’s here on assignment.” 

“What?” He exchanged looks with Bucky and Sam.

Tony nodded, “There’s no one better to write about the newest members of our team than her. And who knows? Maybe she’ll fall in love with the King of Wakanda next and find herself queen.” He gave Bucky a playful nudge, “She’d make a great queen, right, Barnes?”

“Fuck off, Stark,” Bucky grunted.

“We should really discuss expanding your vocabulary if you’re going to be a permanent member here, Barnes.” Tony tried to convince Steve to approach her for exactly three more minutes before boredom struck and steered him away.

The three of them looked on for a while until Sam was approached by another beautiful girl and Bucky disappeared to the bar. Steve stood there clutching a useless drink in his hand. Sharon approached him with a drink and a look on her face that Steve hadn’t seen before. “It’s a small world, after all.”

Steve shrugged, “She’s a great writer. Really knows how to get the details and spin them into amazing stories.”

“That’s every writer, Steve.”

“You’re right,” he said with a laugh before kissing her on the forehead. 

Sharon smiled, but it wasn’t just any smile. It wasn’t her normal pleased smile, nor was it malicious. It was genuine. Her eyes moved up to him, “She looks good. And happy.”

“Yep,” he breathed. He scanned the room and smiled in relief once he saw a few of Sharon’s friends. “Look who’s here!”

Sharon nearly jumped in excitement as she bounced to her friends, leaving him to stew in peace. He was thankful for that. He searched the room again to find her, finally spotting her and Agent-Shitty-Turned-Beau mingling with other agents.

He watched as she squealed with excitement when she saw Sam, nearly knocking him over into that pretty girl from the bar as she jumped into his arms. She shared quiet conversations with Bucky and Bruce. She and Nat exchanged compliments. Tony flirted with her, which she always took in good stride. She spoke to all of her old friends with such sincerity, Steve wondered how she would treat him when it was his turn.

His turn never came.

Not once had she so much as looked in his direction. She clung to Agent Shitty so tightly that he wondered if she was actually in love with him. When Tony stood up and introduced the new team members, her face was buried in her notepad. If she did look up, it was deliberately away from his direction and she’d resume writing. Every moment she ignored him was another stabbing pain in the gut.

The party seemed to drag on. Steve had found himself a table to avoid the noise and count the hours until the mandatory hours of hell were over. He drank viciously, hoping that if he did it fast enough, maybe he’d get buzzed for an extra second or two. He’d lost track of her a while ago, unable to stomach the sight of her dancing with him and gazing at him like he put the stars in the sky. Sure, he wanted her to be happy, but he didn’t want to see it in person.

He heard two sets of footsteps approach from behind him and rolled his eyes at the thought of another press opportunity. “Hey, Cap,” Sam said.

“Two minutes?” Steve asked in hopes that the reporter would take the hint that he wasn’t in the mood for an interview. He turned around slowly. His eyes widened once he saw her standing there, staring sheepishly at the notepad in her shaking hands.

“Hi,” she said quietly, still not looking up at him. 

“Cap, she needs a quick soundbite about the new team members. You know, how excited we all are to welcome them and how we know that we’ve got the strongest fighting force of heroes in the universe,” Sam explained, trying to fill the awkward silence.

Steve crossed his arms and glared at her. “Can’t you just write that down and put my name on it?”

“Absolutely, Captain Rogers,” she said flatly, writing down the quote. “Thank you for your time, sir.” She turned to Sam and hugged him tightly. “See you tomorrow, Sam?”

“Of course!” Sam bellowed, making her laugh, “Wouldn’t want you to miss an opportunity to see Falcon in action.”

She rolled her eyes, “I already know everything about you! I have to get to know everyone else.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before walking away.

“She’ll ‘see you tomorrow, Sam?’” Steve asked mockingly

“Press day out at the Compound,” Sam reminded him.

He’d forgotten that part of the weekend. Well, not quite forgotten, but it didn’t matter much to him until that moment. She and other writers were going out to the Compound to watch the new team members in action. 

“You gonna skip it?”

“No,” Steve said dryly, “I’ll be there.”

“Are we just gonna sit here and brood, then?”

“Yes.”

Sam let out a chuckle and sat down across from Steve, beckoning Bucky over from the bar. “C’mon, Barnes, we’re brooding!” he said loud enough for Bucky to hear

Bucky walked over with a smirk, “Finally! Something I’m good at.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Bucky are two of my favorite characters to write! :) Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

“We need a plan, Barnes,” Sam said quietly as they waited for Steve in the SUV. He yawned and glanced out the window. It was just before daybreak and, if it was a regular Saturday and there wasn’t a mission, he’d still be asleep. But he knew he needed to be there for Steve.

Bucky quirked a brow, “What kind of plan are you thinkin’?”

Sam shrugged as he scrubbed a hand down his face. “One where Cap gets the girl and the whole world leaves them alone.”

“We could just blindfold and kidnap them both, throw them into a room, and lock the door.”

“Yeah! And then kill them if they don’t get together!” Sam exclaimed sarcastically

Bucky frowned, “Too ‘Winter Soldier?’”

“Too Winter Soldier.”

“Well, you come up with a plan then, because I’m about two more longing looks from knocking his ass out and taking his girl.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Bucky laughed and shook his head, “I wouldn’t.” 

When Steve jogged out to the car and got in, they were pleasantly surprised to see that Sharon wasn’t anywhere in sight. Sam and Bucky exchanged looks of surprise, quickly wiping them away once Steve got into the driver’s seat. Whatever plan they concocted could work. It was going to be a good weekend.

Once they arrived at the Compound, they trudged to their rooms to find their schedules already taped to the door. Everyone had been assigned a reporter to follow them around for half the day, then a different one for the rest. It was normal for press days to prevent a single writer from getting bored or to investigative with their work.

Steve’s eyes scoured the list for his name first.

**Rogers | Barnes | Wilson ...**

His heart nearly leapt from his chest when he read her name next to his. Then, it slightly deflated once he saw his name with Bucky’s and Sam’s. It deflated even further when he saw that her name had also been paired with Peter Parker’s.

The three of them headed to the press room, passing by several journalists and their assigned team members already getting started. “You think she’s gonna follow us around as starry-eyed as that guy?” Bucky asked in a low voice as T’Challa and his writer walked passed them with T’Challa already annoyed by the constant badgering.

“I don’t know,” Sam chuckled. “But that kid better back it up before King Kitty brings out the claws.” He motioned like a cat pawing the air.

Steve appreciated his friends’ attempts to ease his nerves, so he let out an obligatory scoff between his glances toward the doors every few seconds. “She’s late.”

Bucky squeezed his shoulder, “C’mon, Stevie. You know she was always good at making an entrance.”

And that she was. The automatic doors slid open and she walked in, a tray of four coffees in her hand. “Morning!” she sang, earning a few sideways looks from the other people in the room.

The sound of her voice lifted Steve’s spirits higher than they’d been for months. He inhaled sharply as she greeted a few other team members before making her way over to the three of them with a wide smile.

The clothes she’d chosen were simple, but impactful: a white v-neck and the jeans she’d frequently worn when she lived at the Tower - the ones that made her ass look great. He adored those jeans. More importantly, he adored her in those jeans. How was it possible for her to still be the most beautiful person in the room after all this time?

“I remembered how everyone but me likes their coffee - black,” she said, handing them each a cup. When Steve’s fingers briefly touched hers, her smile faltered before clearing her throat, “So, what’s first on the list, boys?”

“The range!” Sam and Bucky exclaimed at the same time, to which Steve rolled his eyes as they lead the way.

He walked awkwardly next to her, avoiding making both small talk and expelling all of his emotions at once. His thumbs twitched by the seam of his pants, reminding him of the last time he’d seen her in Chicago. Those damn idle hands.

When his hand accidentally brushed against hers again, it sent an electric shock down his spine. Much to his chagrin, she withdrew her hand and gripped the inside of her elbow. “He’s really nice,” she admitted quietly.

“That’s good,” he huffed with a solemn nod. He should’ve just gone with the small talk option, asked her about the weather, Chicago — anything but this.

“It was kinda funny - the way we got together.”

“I’m sure.”

She stopped walking and dropped her hands to her sides. “If we have to spend the morning together, I need to know if we’re friends or professionals.”

Steve scoffed before mocking her, “Friends? You and Sam are _friends_. You and everyone else are _friends_. You can talk to them about your boyfriend.”

She chewed the inside of her lip and shook her head, looking upwards like she was battling the urge to cry, “Duly noted, Captain Rogers.” With that, she quickened her pace to catch up with Sam and Bucky.

“An idiot,” he muttered, “I’m an idiot.”

She looked on as the three of them showed their skills, occasionally teasing Bucky for being trigger-happy. But she didn’t talk to Steve, just jotted down notes and stood in the background. When he’d try to answer a question, she’d raise her eyebrows and write something down and move on.

Annoyed with the fact that she was ignoring him, each time she’d reach down for her phone, he’d fire off a shot and she’d cast him a cold glare. It was cruel, he knew that, but she was at least looking at him, so he considered it a win.

“Y’know,” she sighed in Sam’s direction, “I’ve written all of this stuff before. I have no idea how to spin it differently.”

Steve caught her eye before she looked away. “I imagine being with us gets pretty boring after a while.”

“Never that,” he heard her say under her breath, forcing him to smile.

“You wanna try?” Sam asked, offering his spot to her, “Might add a cool edge to your story.”

“Uh, yes!” She stepped into Sam’s spot and stared at the gun lying on the platform, scrunching up her face with an adorable frown, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Steve can give you a hand,” Bucky said quickly, followed by a sharp kick in the ankle from Sam.

Steve glanced between them and nodded, walking slowly toward her like she was a wild animal. “Rule one: treat every gun like it’s —“

“Loaded,” she finished. “Rule two: only point at things you want to shoot,” she recited the other rules of gun safety, smirking once she saw the equal looks of surprise on all of their faces. “I learned a few things being here. I’ve just never been handed a gun before and told to just do the damn thing, y’know?”

At the sight of her smile, Steve was flustered. “Right, so you should check the chamber before putting the slide back.”

“Got it, okay,” she mumbled as she followed his directions. She pointed the gun at the target, locked the magazine into place and took a deep, shaky breath.

“Alright,” he chuckled at her tense stature, “you need to relax. It’s not gonna shoot unless you pull the trigger. And take a wider stance.” 

“Like this?” She had only moved her legs about an inch wider than before.

“Here,” he said quickly. He moved his leg between hers and spread them apart, an action he’d done in a different setting what felt like eons ago. Her shoulders tensed even more as he stepped closer, his body dwarfing hers, but fitting against it perfectly. He rested his hands on her shoulders and pushed them down before trailing his hands to lock on her elbows and correct her arms, raising goosebumps along her skin where his fingers had touched. He leaned in close to her ear and when she tried to turn to look at him, he muttered, “Eyes on the target, darlin’.” 

“Sure,” she replied hoarsely.

“Deep breath in,” he directed as she did what she was told, “and out through your mouth. Then, pull.” He watched her lips part shakily with the breath she’d held in for a moment. The sound of the gun firing was nothing compared to the combined thumping sounds in both of their chests. “Perfect,” he whispered before stepping away and heading back toward his own target.

She took out the magazine and pulled back the slide, quickly setting down the gun as though it were on fire. She gave Sam and Bucky a wild-eyed look to which they simply smiled and nodded approvingly. “Assholes,” she hissed. 

Despite the moment they’d shared at the gun range, her professionalism was unshakable. This was likely due to the fact that the next item on the itinerary was at a full-group training session which included a few dozen journalists and their assigned Avenger. 

She moved around the room with such familiarity that other writers stared on with envy. Without throwing them so much as a glance, she sat cross-legged in her usual spot against the mirrored walls next to the sparring area, watching as Bucky and Steve trained one another. Even though she knew each of them were pulling their punches, she couldn’t help but cover her eyes any time either of them took a hit.

Sam stretched and warmed up in front of her, waiting for his turn. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating that guy?”

She shrugged, “Because it’s not that serious right now, Sam. We aren’t official or anything.”

“And showing up to a Stark party was a good way to announce it?” At the sound of a strained wheeze, they both turned to see Bucky clutching his stomach in pain and Steve glaring at him, his fist clenched. 

Bucky spluttered, “A spar!”

“Sorry, Buck,” Steve grunted before they resumed.

Turning back to Sam, she smiled. “It’s just a thing for now, nothing real.”

“Well, he’s not as good looking as I am, so I don’t imagine it’s anything real.”

“Shut up,” she groaned. “He’s good-looking. He has nice bone structure.”

“Right, _bone_ structure.” She punched him in the thigh and he laughed. “He treat you well?”

“We go to breakfast, dinner, movies,” she listed with a shy smile playing at her lips. “He comes to all the gigs I write about. Sometimes we walk down the Lakefront and just hang for hours. It’s nice.”

“Sounds serious.”

She shrugged again, “Maybe.”

Another strained wheeze, this time from Steve. “Take it easy, guys,” Sam warned before turning back to her. “What’s his name?”

“Wyatt,” she answered. Her eyes flickered to Steve and widened in horror. “Steve! Watch your —“

It was too late. At the sound of Agent Shitty’s real name, Steve froze, followed by a blow to the right side of his face from Bucky’s metal arm. He fell to the ground with a loud thud as she and Sam rushed over. 

She sat down next to his head and gripped both sides of his face as she pulled him into her lap, prying open each eye with her fingers. “Steve, are you okay?”

A lazy smile spread across his face as he opened his eyes. “Steve,” he mouthed.

“What?” Sam asked

“She called me ‘Steve,’” he said quietly. “Twice.”

“Yeah,” she giggled, “Because that’s your name, Steve.”

“You haven’t called me that in a long time.” When she didn’t answer, he reached a hand behind her head and pulled her close.

She resisted, panic-stricken, and whispered, “Twenty-two.” She glanced up to see everyone in the room staring at them and looked back down at him with wide eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

“I’m gonna dare,” he whispered teasingly, gently pulling her into him and meeting her lips with his own. He smiled under her soft lips. The ringing in his ears stopped. The muttered musings of the other people in the room faded away as he tuned in to the sound of her heartbeat. He reached up to find her hand, lacing their trembling fingers together and bringing them down to his chest. The trembling stopped. The throbbing in his head quickly subsided as he heard Bucky and Sam in hushed argument.

“I thought we weren’t going with your way of doing things.”

“He hit me first,” Bucky said coolly. “Besides, no one’s dead.”

“That’s a big upgrade for you, Barnes.” Sam offered his hand to Steve and pulled him up from the floor. She scrambled to her feet shortly after, wrapping her arms around herself before staring around the room. “I take it we’re changing plans?”

She nodded furiously, suddenly interested in her shoes, “Food.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a lot of fun to write! Lots of love for my favorite trio :) Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

The scheduled lunch time was simple: the team would eat separately from the journalists. The journalists could compare notes and brag. The team would bemoan another forced press opportunity and would regroup for the second half of the day.

It was meant to be simple, however, when she and Steve entered the room, conversations seemed to freeze. Both halves of the room stared at their group, some with smug grins and others with horrified expressions.

“Dammit,” she groaned, her eyes welling with tears. “There goes my job.” She turned quickly and sped out of the room with Steve following closely behind her.

He gripped her arm and stopped her. “Look at me,” he said as he turned her around to face him. He cupped her chin and locked eyes with her, smiling earnestly. “Tell me this doesn’t feel nice.”

She groaned and shoved him away, retreating into herself. “Steve, everyone knows!” she cried. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. _We_ aren’t supposed to happen.”

“Maybe it was and we are,” he suggested.

“If it was, it would’ve happened a year ago when we met! Not now. Not here in front of all these people.”

He reached up and stroked her cheek, wiping away the tears rolling down her face. “If I hadn’t been so stupid, it wouldn’t have taken a year.” He grabbed her hand and led her away from the dining hall. “C’mon, we can eat at my place.”

“I’m not hungry,” she pouted as he dragged her away.

“Then, we can talk.”

“I don’t wanna do that either.”

“Then,” he offered, casually grinning over his shoulder, “we can sit and not talk and you can hate me.”

She nodded and trailed behind him. As they worked through the halls of the Compound, they felt the eyes of everyone they passed, occasionally rousing a sob  
from behind him. “Steve, everyone is staring.” They reached the elevator and he leaned in to kiss her, prompting her to dodge him. “You need to stop kissing me,” she said.

He chuckled as they ducked into the elevator. Once the door closed, he wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I won’t.”

“I’m not your mistress, Steven.” She stood up straight, “I’m casually dating someone, anyway.”

Steve couldn’t help the smug grin that spread across his face at her mention of Wyatt. “I can’t believe you agreed to go out with that guy,” he teased as the elevator sprang to life. “You shot him down four times before then.”

She sniffed hard and shook her head, a small smile crawling across her face. “He was sitting on a bench across the street from the office again,” she explained. “So, I finally just marched up to him and told him that if he was gonna follow me everywhere, he might as well buy me dinner first. And he did.”

Steve laughed and kissed her forehead, “Sounds about right.”

“Oh, God!” She buried her face in his chest. “I’m getting fired. Or reassigned! They’re gonna send me to some third-world country on the other side of the globe and then fire me and I won’t have a way to get back to the United States!” She began to hyperventilate, muffled gasps shaking her body against him, “I’ll have to learn a new language! I can’t write in another language! Do you know how hard syntax and diction are in other languages?”

He held her tighter and soothed her cries. “They’re not sending you anywhere,” he promised, kissing the top of her head. 

“Maybe I’ll learn how to weave baskets,” she half-laughed, half-sobbed, voice still muffled by his shirt. “Start my own business like those ladies we saw in Bali.”

He remembered that mission well. It was meant to gather intel, which was deemed safe enough for her to tag along. But there wasn’t much there, giving them a sort of vacation. When she challenged to drink Sam under the table, throwing back shots and double-fisting cheap Indonesian beer, Steve was impressed. But it was when she climbed on a table and belted out a unique rendition of “This Is How We Do It” with Sam singing backup vocals, that Steve found himself enamored with her unbridled spirit.

He smirked at the memory, “Why basket-weaving?”

“People like baskets,” she continued as she pulled away from him. “It’s all I’ll be able to do after this.”

The elevator opened up and revealed his floor. It wasn’t much different from what he had at the Tower - simple, clean, and functional.

He walked her over to the couch and sat down next to her, refusing to let her go despite her desperate attempts to scramble to the other side of the couch. “Why are you fighting me?”

“Because I let you go, Steve!” At that, he released her and she relaxed into the couch cushions, covering her face with her hands. “I let you go.”

“Then why did you come up here?” he asked with narrow eyes. “If you let me go, why did you come?”

She stared at him for a moment then shrugged, “Wyatt invited me and I said that I wouldn’t go. Then, my boss told me that Tony Stark requested me at this event - something about optics. You don’t get to say no to assignments like that. You don’t get options.”

“You knew I would be here,” he said quietly. “You knew that I never let you go.”

Pretending she hadn’t heard him, she stood up and walked over to the wall of pictures. She studied each one carefully. She paused and smiled at one. “This is you and Bucky?” She pointed to an old picture that Fury had managed to salvage from the collection of items SHIELD had taken from his old apartment in Brooklyn. 

He nodded and walked over to her. He remembered the photo well: a day at Coney Island with Bucky and his sister, Rebecca. “That was me,” he cringed. “Unbelievable, right?”

She stared at the picture for an extra second before turning to him. “You never gave up on him, did you?” She cocked her head to the side as she looked at another picture on the wall. “Is that —“

“Us,” he interrupted. He watched her fingers stroke the photo from the intel folder that Bucky had given him.  
The corners of her mouth fought a smile. “We look pretty happy there.” 

She hummed in agreement before sighing, “It’s awfully quiet in here. Is it always this quiet?”

He grinned smugly, “Not enough noise for you now, Chicago girl?” She stifled a laugh. “Our nice facility doesn’t hold a candle to the amazing things you’re doin’ over there, huh?”

When she didn’t answer, he cautiously enveloped her in his arms. Instead of rejecting him, which he fully expected, she let him. She relaxed against him, slowly crawling her hands up his back and resting them on his shoulder blades. Her head nestled in his chest, filling his nose with the scent of her perfume. “The truth is, I came here because I couldn’t help myself,” she whispered.

“Ah, the plot thickens,” he joked.

She hit him playfully on the arm, “Shut up.” 

He kissed the top of her head then the rest of her face, earning genuine laughs as he did so. “You have no idea how happy that sound makes me,” he said before pressing a sweet kiss to her lips, deepening it once he realized she was kissing him back.

Suddenly, she broke away, dropping her hands away from him and walking backwards. “Steve,” she huffed, rolling her eyes, “we have to stop. Not once over this weekend did I want to be alone with you.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I knew this would happen!”

He quirked a brow, “Need I remind you who dropped in on who this weekend?”

She paused before erupting into a rant, “I’m not gonna live my life for stolen weekends and secret phone calls, Steve. I’m not gonna wait for you while you make a life with someone else.” When he remained silent, she continued to provoke him, laughing darkly. “Will I be invited to the wedding just so we can fuck in the coat closet before you say your vows? And when they ask if anyone objects, everyone’s gonna turn around and wait for me to say something?“

“Stop.”

“Oh, I know!” she spat, marching across the room before turning around sharply. “What about in the waiting room before you meet your kid? Because that sounds like a fulfilling life, let me tell you.”

“Just stop. Please.”

“Why would any of that happen, Steve? Because you own me? Because whenever we’re together we can’t just be friends? It’s all or nothing with you, right? Either we hate each other and never talk or we love each other knowing we won’t be together.”

“You own me,” he said softly.

“What?”

“ _You_ own _me_!” he repeated louder. “Every damn day, I think about you. I can’t go more than a day without thinking about you! I am _sick_ without you. Sick of work, sick of my friends - of everyone! The only time I feel like I’m worth a damn is when I’m with you! So, no, I can’t just be friends with you!”

She groaned and ran a hand through her hair. “If that’s the truth, then why aren’t we together? Why are we standing here, screaming at each other?”

“Because I am terrified of you!” he shouted. “Because you told me to leave and I did. You never called. You never texted. And then you show up here with _him_ after months, expecting me to just be okay with that?” he shouted before lowering his voice, “You made this a game and none of the rules are fair.”

She looked up at ceiling, blinking back tears. “Then why don’t you just call it for the both of us? Forfeit. Game over.”

“Two minutes ago? I would have,” he sighed. “But two minutes ago, you lost.”

She snorted, “Lost?”

“You said that you were in love with me.”

Her face screwed up in a mixture of confusion and fear. She backed away slowly, her voice quivering, “I’d like to take you up on that offer now. The one where I get to sit in silence and hate you.”

“No,” he snapped taking a step toward her, “you said that I owned you. How can I ‘own’ someone that doesn’t love me?”

The guilty look on her face closely resembled that of a 16-year-old kid who’d stole the family car and crashed it. He could see her eyes searching for a comeback, an excuse, a lie.

“Dammit,” she relented. Without warning, she kissed him hard, extracting nearly every bit of despair from him. In that moment, he was more whole than he’d been in the last 80 years. Nothing else mattered; not Sharon, not Wyatt, not the nagging voice in the back of his mind urging him to stop. He had her. He’d won.

Before he could push things further, her phone rang and she jumped backwards. She fumbled grabbing it from her pocket, her eyes widening when she saw Wyatt’s name on the screen.

“He knows,” she muttered. 

Steve laughed and took her phone, declining the call. “You know what’s funny about every reporter here this weekend? They signed an NDA that stated they aren’t allowed to report anything that happens here until they print an article.”

She frowned, “I didn’t sign anything like that.”

“And that’s why I’ll always be begrudgingly indebted to Anthony Howard Stark.” He smiled and kissed her again, praying that the same electricity he’d felt each time he touched her would be mutual.

She pulled away from him, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. “We have to get back out there,” she said, “to maintain appearances.”

He looked down at her, “The only appearance I’m worried about maintaining is the one where I’m with you every moment of this weekend.” He watched as she mulled over his proclamation, chewing the inside of her lip. He knew she wanted to ask him what would happen next, but she didn’t.

He reluctantly loosened his grip, pressing a kiss to her nose. She reached up and smoothed out the neckline of his shirt. He grabbed her hand and kissed it, his mouth barely opening to speak before she clapped her other hand over it. “Don’t say it,” she warned. “Don’t you dare say it when you know I deserve to hear it from someone who can be with me. Don’t do that to me.”

Crestfallen, he nodded in agreement as she withdrew her hand. He couldn’t help himself. “But, you know, right?”

“I know,” she sighed, closing her eyes as she rubbed at her temples. “I know, okay?”

“And do I know?”

She huffed through her nose, folding her arms across her chest. “You know,” she replied quietly. A smile played at his lips, contrasting the tight line of hers. He wished she’d just smile at him, maybe even for him, anything but the sadness that was lacing her delicate features.

“Please don’t ask me for more time,” she added, her voice breaking on the final syllable, “because you know that if you ask me, I’ll give it to you and I hate myself for that.” Her eyes were glassy with tears. “So, I’m asking you not to ask me for anything, don’t promise anything...just —,” she sniffed hard, “okay?”

“Okay.” His chest felt heavy, knowing the designated lunch break was coming to an end. Soon enough, she’d be pretending that he didn’t exist again. She’d be hundreds of miles away, building a life without him while he was stuck in the cage he’d welded under the guise of honor, duty, and professionalism. It dawned on him then: he needed to find a key.

“I have to follow Spider-Man around for the rest of the day,” she frowned. “And he only wants to be referred to as ‘Spider-Man’ in my piece.”

He smirked, “Just don’t fall in love with him.”

“Steve, he is a child.” Mischief flashed in her eyes. “However, there are plenty of eligible and available suitors that I can —“

“Just stop.”


	9. Chapter 9

For the second half of the day, Steve watched her from across the room. Luckily, everything on the schedule was done in groups, so she was never far away from him. It wasn’t ideal, but Steve was desperate.

When she was truly working on an article, she seemed to transform into another person. The disgruntled and perpetually annoyed girl he’d spent hours with before that moment in the training room was gone. In her place, a radiant writer that seemed less like an interviewer and more like a friend. Thanks to his abilities, he could occasionally eavesdrop on her and Peter Parker’s conversations.

They exchanged pleasantries and occasionally laughed at something on either of their phones. She was a master at her craft, weaving her investigative work with her casual, easy-going nature. Steve couldn’t help but smile each time he caught her eye, earning well-deserved annoyance from his own journalist.

“So,” Peter started, his voice cracking with nervousness, “I gotta ask: you and Captain America are together? Isn’t he dating that one girl? Aren’t you dating that guy?”

Steve’s breath caught in his throat as he scrambled for a way to distract the entire room. When he saw her smile, he waited a moment, intrigued by what her next move would be. “Complicated. Yes. No, not anymore,” she answered pointedly. She cast a glance across the room to Steve, who quickly turned back to his interviewer.

He knew that she had every intention to follow the itinerary, but he had other plans. When she tried to follow Peter to the next scheduled activity, he snuck up behind her, gripping her arm and taking a sharp right to drag her outside. Together, they walked along the sprawling grounds of the Compound, catching a few wary stares along the way. They stifled their laughter at the hungry eyes of the younger reporters, all waiting for the moment they could print the gossip about Captain America and his new love interest. When the sun started to set, he felt his chest tighten as they walked up the path.

“You wanna know something embarrassing?” She asked, gently letting go of his hand and putting it in her back pocket as though he wouldn’t notice.

“What’s that?”

She scrunched up her face, “I called Wyatt ‘Steve’ the other day.”

Steve nearly doubled over in laughter. “What did he say?” he choked out between breaths.

“Nothing, he just carried on like it never happened.” She glared at him, “Don’t laugh! It’s sad!”

That made him laugh even harder as they approached the main building of the Compound. She stopped just before the doors and turned around, “I have to go.”

“No, you don’t.”

She nodded and smiled, “Optics.” She hugged him and kissed him quickly on the cheek. “Bye, Steve.”

“You’ll call me?” he asked as she walked away.

“I meant what I said.”

“But, I know?” he asked hopefully 

She stopped dead on her heels and turned around with a slight smile. It was enough to make his knees weak. “Yes, Steven. You know.”

“And Wyatt?” he asked, finally letting his curiosity win.

She scoffed, “Surprise or not, kissing someone else isn’t the best thing for a new relationship.” She exhaled deeply before turning around, “See you around, Steve.”

He gave a solemn nod and walked back inside the Compound. The rest of the team looked sufficiently worn out after their day of being followed and turning on the charm. He waved to them as he collapsed onto the couch next to Sam and closed his eyes.

“So?” Tony asked

Peeking open an eye, he noticed that everyone was staring at him. “So, What?”

-“Is she coming back?”

-“Are you together?”

-“Did you break up with Sharon?”

The questions were coming quicker than he could process and he had answers to exactly none of them. He shrugged, the only thing he could muster, and let out a short, “I dunno.”

“What do you mean?” Nat asked

Before Steve could speak, a decorative bowl flew across the room, triggering his reflexes as he caught it before it hit his face. “Dumbass!” Tony snapped

“What did I do now?” Steve groaned

“I engineered this entire weekend to try and get you to come to a decision and at the end of it, you still don’t know?”

“You engineered — What?”

Tony stood up, his chest heaving, and stomped over to Steve, wrenching him forward by his shirt. Sam tried to move to his defense, but was stopped by a stiff arm from Bucky. “Listen to me: you are going to get in that goddamn car and go to that goddamn hotel that _I’m_ paying for and you aren’t allowed to come back without her!”

“I’m not allowed?” Steve quipped

“Forbidden.” He looked to the others for support and Steve was horrified to see matching smirks on everyone’s faces. 

“Stark’s orders, Rogers,” Natasha agreed.

Sam smirked, “Without her, man, you have the biggest, most pathetic cloud over your head. I’m with Stark on this one.” The rest of the group hastily shouted words of agreement.

Steve stared at Tony with wide eyes. “Okay,” he said finally. At that, he was released. Before his back could hit the couch, he sprang up and stared at the group. “Anyone else feel like ordering me around?”

Bucky hid his growing smile, reaching a hand up to scratch his beard. “If the takeout order comes on your way out, you mind bringin’ it in?”

Steve answered with a very stern middle finger before walking away. Tony wiped at pretend tears, “He’s learning.” He called one last piece of advice to Steve’s back, “Borrow Friday! She knows where to go.”

It was like he was on auto-pilot. His mind had shut off as he showered and changed his clothes in record time, nervously sweating as he made his way down to his car. Almost robotically, he asked Friday to pull up the directions for the hotel, which wasn’t far from the Compound.

As he drove, the phone rang, the shrill sound breaking the silence of the car and his train of thoughts. It was Sharon. 

His brows furrowed and he shifted uncomfortably as it continued to ring. He passed a sign that warned him of an upcoming exit back to the city. 

Then another. 

He shook his head. “Focus here, Rogers,” he muttered to himself.” The number of miles grew smaller toward the exit as he continued to follow Friday’s directions down the interstate.

Before he knew it, the twenty minute drive had become two hours longer and he found himself at the base of the Tower. He tapped the wheel nervously as he peered up toward his illuminated window. “Shit,” he hissed as he got out and locked the car.

The path toward his floor seemed longer and more foreign than ever before. Everything he passed seemed unfamiliar and he wondered if this was what it felt like to be on Death Row awaiting execution. Well, his time was up and it was time to meet his maker. 

He unlocked the door and pushed it open, a frown creasing his face as he closed it behind him. “Sharon?”

She came from the kitchen with a small smile on her face. “Hi! You aren’t supposed to be back ‘til tomorrow,” she said as she hugged him. Perhaps he didn’t hug her as tightly as she expected, because her lips fell into a thin line. “What’s wrong, Steve?”

“Can we sit down?” he asked, gesturing to the couch

“No,” she snapped, “we can stand here until you tell me what’s wrong.” She studied the fresh clothes, the clean scent, and the nervousness before sighing, “You saw her today, didn’t you?” When he didn’t answer, she spoke again. “And you were on your way to see her, but you wanted to stop here first, didn’t you?” 

This was it. For a moment, he wavered, wondering whether he was making the right decision. He thought of his moments with Sharon - the semi-decent ones, anyway. Every smile, every kiss. The cute way she’d laugh or how fiercely they would train together.

And then, the moments shifted. Instead of looking down at Sharon, he was looking at someone else. Her face came into view as his mind grew hazy with thoughts of her. He remembered their first introduction, their first awkward interview, the time they’d fallen asleep watching Jurassic Park and the way she scrambled to her feet the next morning. The way she cuddled into his chest every time he carried her home from the bar on a Saturday night. The way her hair smelled on a Sunday morning after she’d washed it, intoxicating him as she sat down with her computer and retold their adventures. The many ways she’d say his name, which were always a tell-tale sign of how she was feeling toward him that day.

Yeah, he was finally doing the right thing, not just for himself, but both women.

Resisting the urge to smile, he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah,” he grunted, “yeah, you’re right.”

“So, I take it this is it, then?”

“I think so.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, “I’m sorry, Sharon. I really am.”

For a moment, everything was in slow motion. From the tears welling in her eyes to the way her fist reared back before jamming him in the gut. The wind was knocked out of him. “I deserved that,” he wheezed.

“You did.”

“Glad you’re taking this well.”

She gave a sad smile, “My ‘Fuck Captain America’ shirt will be here tomorrow.”

“If I apologize again, am I getting punched?”

“Relax, I won’t get another chance to catch you off-guard, so it was a one-time thing,” she chuckled. “I’m not gonna lie, I saw this coming.”

“You did?”

She patted him on the arm, “You’re not the only one playing pretend. A girl can tell when a guy looks at her and wishes he was looking at someone else.” She sighed, “And Steve, when you look at me, you see my Aunt Peggy.”

“What do you mean?” His chest felt heavy with the weight of Peggy’s memory as he sat down on the couch and she followed.

“That’s who you’re looking for,” she said matter-of-factly. “But Steve? I’m not Peggy Carter. And she’s not her either.”

“That’s not who I’m —“

“Have you ever thought that, maybe, you weren’t meant to be with Peggy?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“There’s this great untold love story between you two,” she explained. “Untold, because it never happened.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” He picked a spot on the floor and stared at it intently. It was true. For decades he and everyone else perpetuated this idea that his one chance at true love and happiness was lost when he went down in that plane. He’d clung to that idea, used it as an excuse to marry his job and put duty above everything. 

And then there was Sharon. A chance to pick up where he’d left off decades ago. And he took it, grasping at the frayed edges of a story that he didn’t feel like writing after all.

“Tell me something: when you kissed me for the first time, did it feel like something you were supposed — Actually, don’t answer that,” she laughed. “But when you kissed,” she paused to roll her eyes, obviously unable to say the name of the girl her boyfriend had fallen for, “when you kissed _her_ for the first time, why did you do that?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“I think you owe me at least that much,” she snapped, crossing her arms across her chest. When he didn’t answer, she sat on her hands to prove she wasn’t going to punch him again.

He exhaled deeply, “Because it was gonna kill me not to.”

She wiped at her eyes and nodded, “Because you love her.”

“I might.” He furrowed his brows, “If you knew, why didn’t you end this sooner?”

She shrugged, “Probably for the same reason you didn’t.” Exhaling deeply and following up with an incredulous laugh, “Duty.”

“It was your duty to be my girlfriend?” he pressed in confusion

She nodded. “I think we’ve both been caged by this idea that what started in 1943 needed to be seen through. But maybe we should stop looking at what could’ve been and focus on what should be ... or what is, if you know what I mean.”

Steve watched as she sighed and wiped her eyes again. He knew that, even though this was technically mutual, nothing he’d done was excusable. He still lied. He still led her on. “Have I mentioned how sorry I am?” he asked weakly as he stood up. 

“It’s okay,” she sniffled. “I’ll be fine.” She shook her head as though she were freeing herself from anymore tears and gave him a sincere smile, “Go get your dream girl, Captain Rogers.”

“Thanks, Agent 13,” he winked before turning and walking to the door.

“Steve?”

“Hm?”

“Promise me two things: one, if it doesn’t work with her, don’t come back to me. And two, give her a chance to make you happy. Give _yourself_ a chance at that. A real chance.”

“Understood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Happy Endgame weekend! :)


	10. Chapter 10

Steve’s head was spinning. He’d finally done it. He was free to do whatever he wanted.

And he was terrified.

Fear gnawed at him for the better part of two hours as he sped down the interstate. He did the only thing he could think of: he called Sam.

“I’m coming back,” he sighed aloud once Sam answered the phone.

“With her, right?”

“No.”

Sam groaned and he could hear Bucky cursing in the background. “I’m with Barnes. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he approached the exit that Friday had not-so-gently reminded him about. “I can’t. What if she doesn’t want me? What if it was just all for the chase?” He passed the exit and shook his head, pulling over onto the shoulder.

There was a brief scuffle and Bucky’s voice boomed through the car’s speakers. “Are you crazy?! Do you really think a dame like that would let herself be led around by a guy she didn’t think wanted her?”

“She could pull a million guys - any guy - and she chooses to have faith in you,” Sam chimed in from the background. “And you’re actually sitting here, telling us that it might not work?”

“C’mon, Sam, you know her.” He was grasping at straws; he knew that.

“I know that she loves you.”

“How?”

“She told me. The day we left Chicago and every time we’ve talked since.”

“She’s never told me.”

“But, you know, right?” Bucky asked

Steve hung up the phone. He did know.

If you had asked Steve Rogers where he thought he’d be at the end of a mandatory press day, he would’ve told you that he’d be asleep, or drawing, or watching a movie. His first answer would not have been to drive a cumulative four hours to have an amicable break up and then to a hotel to beg the love of his life to give him a chance.

Despite the open roads and the empty parking lot, time moved slowly. His legs weren’t moving correctly. The elevator wasn’t ascending fast enough. He could feel his heart in his throat and the weightlessness of his stomach. For a moment, he worried that he’d be on one side of the door, listening to her love someone else. Or worse, that someone else would open the door after having loved her in all the ways Steve couldn’t before. He imagined the smug grin the faceless stranger would have on his face. He wanted to vomit.

‘No,’ he thought to himself. ‘No more excuses. Now or never.’

He pounded on the door until it flew open and he was staring down at her freshly woken face. “Steve? You’re not supposed to be here,” she said groggily. “That, or I need to stop drinking Tito’s.” She peered down the hall and eyed the other reporters who were peeking through their doors. Clearly they’d heard him beating down the door at 2am.

“Yes, I am,” he blurted out, a smile turning the corners of his mouth. “This is exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

“Okay, not drunk,” she muttered quietly, clearly forgetting that he could hear it anyway. She gritted her teeth as she stood up straighter, “No, it’s not.” She looked down the hall again rolled her eyes. “You vultures could mind your own fucking business!” she yelled and a few doors shut. She sighed and opened the door wider, ushering him inside quickly and closing it. 

He tried not to let his eyes linger as she stood there in a sweatshirt and her underwear as she unceremoniously strode across the room to the messy bed and laid down. She patted the space next to her with a grimace.

He sat on the edge next to her and sighed, “I came to —“

“Shh,” she hushed, closing her eyes as she snuggled down into the comforter.

He reached over and stroked her cheek with his thumb, “What are we doing?”

“Sleeping. You can do whatever you want. But I am sleeping.”

He glanced at the half-empty fifth of vodka on the nightstand and sighed, “I really need to say something to you, sweetheart.”

She opened one eye and closed it again, an annoyed look darkening her face. “It can wait until the morning.”

He laid down next to her, placing his hand on the small of her back and shaking her gently. “It can’t.”

“Congratulations,” she grunted into the pillow.

He was taken aback. “What?”

“You’re getting married.”

“No!”

“Having a kid?”

“No.”

“Finally committing to your girlfriend and setting me free?”

“No.”

“Well, my clip’s empty.” Reaching over to turn in the lamp, she sat up. “Dammit, it’s two in the morning. What do you want?”

For the first time, he knew. For the first time, he could tell her what he wanted. He didn’t need to keep it a secret, not anymore. 

Despite her anger, he couldn’t help by grin smugly. “You.” She blinked a few times. “Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time, darlin’,” he began, “I. Want. You.” He grabbed her hands that were clenched tightly in her lap. “And you can have me, the very best of me, now — if you want.”

“I can have you,” she whispered, processing the words that had fallen out of his mouth. Her eyes narrowed, “For how long this time?”

He chuckled and dove for her, forcing her to squeal in surprise. He held her tight and looked down at her, kissing the top of her head. “For however long you want.”

“What are you saying, Steve?” She asked, skepticism at the edge of her tone

He searched her face to see in her eyes. There was a pang of guilt in his chest — this was his fault. All of his uncertainty had made her wary of him. At best, she needed more time. At worst, she had resigned any faith she had in him.

The words fell out of his mouth faster than he could catch them, a hot lump growing in his throat. “I’m sorry it took me so long. And I’m sorry that I let contracts and duties get in the way of where I’m meant to be,” he said, releasing her and getting up from the bed. He turned toward the door, “I’ll wait for you for as long as it takes. Because I need you to trust me when I say that I love you and I want you.” 

He didn’t need her to tell him to leave again, he could figure out how to do that on his own. He wasn’t going to stand there and stare at her while she decided he wasn’t the one she wanted after all. And he wasn’t going to take one last look at her either.

No, instead he stuffed those twitchy, idle hands into his jacket and left, taking long strides down the hallway before rapidly pressing the button. He stepped into the elevator and sighed, unsure of what to do next.

“Steve?”

He looked up from the floor to see her standing in the middle of the hall. She’d come after him.

The elevator doors closed and he rushed to push the button to open them once more. “Yes?”

“Are you really in this? With me?”

“Only you,” he said firmly.

Her hands covered her face and Steve assumed she was crying, but when she looked up, she had a bright smile on her face, only comparable to the moment after he kissed her for the first time. “Don’t move!” He laughed as the elevator doors closed and creaked to life. Deciding that the ride from her floor to the lobby was too long, he bounded up the auxiliary stairs two a time.

He slammed the door open only to see that she wasn’t there. Panicked, he jogged to her door and knocked furiously. It would be his luck to finally get a chance to be with this girl and to have her kidnapped. And terribly cliche. 

She cracked the door open and peeked out. Steve could see the smile in her eyes. “I wasn’t wearing pants.”

“I told you not to move,” he said in disbelief. “You weren’t supposed to move.”

She opened the door wider and cocked her head, a curious brow perked on her face. “Oh, so you think this means you can give me orders now, Captain?”

Without any hesitation, Steve dove into the room and pinned her to the bed, grabbing her so tightly that she squealed with excitement. She laughed as he kissed every sliver of exposed skin before making his way back up to her face. “Hi,” he said with a wide smile.

“Hi,” she giggled, running her fingers through his hair and smoothing it.

“Where are we in that book now?”

“I’d say, just short of the middle. But don’t push your luck.” She sighed, “So, what now? Because the logistics of this whole situation need to be worked out. Number one, I’m not —“

He cut her off with a kiss, pulling away and nuzzling her. “I think we’ve had enough rules for now, don’t you?”

She nodded, relaxing under his grip. “You said I could have the very best of you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “but I don’t want the best of you, Steve. I want all of you.”

He answered her with a bruising kiss, trailing his fingers across her skin. Her hands crept up his chest, pushing him to the side and climbing into his lap. “All of you,” she repeated, her lips brushing against his earlobe.

It began gently, each of them savoring the slow movements of the other. Steve cherished her in ways he’d only dreamt of before them. In turn, she did the same, whispering sweet praises against his skin. Their eyes met with an unspoken word, one that had alluded them both since they’d met.

Freedom.

Abruptly, the pace changed as frustration and uninhibited love collided. It became carnal and erratic, repeated half a dozen times over until they were spent. 

With a sleepy smile, Steve watched as she fell asleep, pleasantly tangled in him. He reached a hand to her face, moving her hair away from her forehead and placing a gentle kiss in its place. “I promise I’ll say this when you’re ready to hear it,” he whispered, “but I love you.”

She stirred. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Go to sleep.”

He snorted and pulled her closer, much to her dismay. “Okay.”

She nestled into his chest and he felt her eyelashes flutter against his skin. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He kissed her hard, finally free to be with her in the way he’d been meant to since they met. No contracts. No girlfriends. No secrets.

Just them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be the epilogue! Thank you so much for reading and taking this journey with me. All of the wonderful comments have really brought my love of writing to life again! I couldn’t be more grateful.


	11. Epilogue

**_S I X M O N T H S L A T E R_ **

She strained as she lifted the last box from outside of Steve’s apartment door, a pain shooting down her back into her thigh and causing her to drop it. “Shit,” she hissed, kicking it hard.

She looked down at her leg, the ugly purple scar with its even larger residual stitching marks mocking her. The pain began to radiate from the mark and her thigh muscle began to spasm. She bit her lip and clutched at the wall, praying its coolness would provide some relief somewhere to no avail. Defeated and sulking, she slid down to the floor.

It was an unfortunate and terribly cliche reminder of the cost of dating Steve Rogers and thinking no one would notice. Despite their best attempts to keep her concealed, there was a high price placed on her head by one of the many enemies of Captain America. Eventually, one of them caught up to her, forcing the team to organize a very loud, public, and expensive extraction effort.

Even still, she refused the offer to be the head of the Avengers PR Department and the protection that came with it. So, a deal was struck. She’d at the forefront of any messes that the team found themselves in, smoothing over the rocky waters that followed any operations that turned out less than ideal. 

And she’d move into the Compound.

When Steve saw her slumped against the wall with a pathetic scowl on her face, he set his box down and sat next to her. “Hurts again?” he asked, gently tracing the scar with his thumb. She nodded and he pulled her closer to him. “I wish I could make it go away.”

She gave a half-hearted laugh and shrugged, “I tried to tell ‘em that we could avoid the whole torture part and split a 30-rack, but no dice.”

He half-smiled, wondering if he’d made the right choice for both of them. He didn’t have to bring her into this mess. He didn’t have to have her. He sighed, “I know this isn’t ideal and that you wanted to stay in Chicago, but —”

“Steve,” she interrupted, wincing as she curled further into him, “there is no one else in the entire universe that I’d rather live with.”

The elevator doors opened to reveal a widely grinning Sam and a slightly less wide grinning Bucky. “It’s moving day!” Sam bellowed, pausing to frown at his two friends sitting on the floor. “Takin’ a break?”

“C’mon, Sam,” Steve groaned.

Sam shrugged, “We actually wanted to ask you to come to the lake.” He turned to her and offered an earnest smile, “I know you used to like laying by the lake in Chicago.”

“And let me guess,” she said flatly, “you want me to cook dinner later?”

“Spaghetti, please!” Sam sang.

When she rolled her eyes, Bucky scoffed, “It really is like living in a sitcom.” He eyed her warily and offered a fake smile. “You don’t have to do anything, y’know. I think Wilson here is just really excited to have you nearby.”

Sam teased, “Or you can keep sitting on the floor. I’ll let you rot here while I go play in the sand.”

She sighed, “Okay.” She used the wall to pull herself to a stand, refusing Steve’s help. “This stupid leg again,” she grunted. “Hey, Bucky, think they could make me a leg like your arm? Just cut the whole thing off and start over?”

Bucky chuckled, “Yeah, wanna be the Winter Journalist? You could learn to kill people with a fountain pen.”

She grinned mischievously and turned to Steve and Sam. “Call Stark and tell him you’ll have a new member.”

Sam let out a fake laugh and grabbed the box from in front of the door as Bucky grabbed Steve’s discarded box. They walked inside, already arguing about what they’d eat when they were done. She watched after them with a pleasant smile.

Steve grimaced, “I’m gonna be third on your list of favorite people now, aren’t I?”

She turned around put a hand behind his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. “Nope,” she smiled, “fifth.”

“You are —“

“Evil?” she suggested, “Malicious? Conniving? Fired as your girlfriend?” Her smile faltered as it often did when she was standing for too long. 

He smiled and held her tighter. She grew heavier in his arms and she relaxed against him. He moved her hair from her face, replacing the rebellious strands with a kiss of his own. “You are everything I could’ve ever wanted.”

He cast a sideways glance at the new PR hire — who was, at both his and her insistence, a guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending this story was bittersweet, but I am so thankful for each and every one of you. Every comment and kudos has made my day. Stay tuned for some of the new ideas I have floating around in my head :)


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